na no da, ne?
by Nashi Hane
Summary: when you take the time to play, and do it everyday... philosophical sorta thingy, first person POV pika pika


It begins. I stress, so I write to relieve that stress. It's 3:02 in the morning right now. I've been up since 6:35 am yesterday. If this isn't coherent…meh. I do not own the characters, ideas, images, or anything else relating to Gravitation (well…I have the series, but it's not mine…). First person POV. You'll know who right away. Rating for cursing. 

I'm not naïve. I'm not stupid. I'm no god. I'm not mentally deficient. I'm not a genius. I'm no fool. I'm not high. There is no always. I do not suffer from what was once called 'multiple personalities'. I'm…different. Yes. That's always been apparent. But I'm no littler than you, so you cannot belittle me. I'm no bigger than you, and any pedestal you place me upon will crumble at my feet of clay. I'm no different than you are, so don't try and classify me as such. There is no special meaning behind what I do when I wake up, who I talk to, what I wear, where my music is made, why I take a goddamn freaking piss when I gotta take a goddamn freaking piss. I just gotta piss, people. It happens. So does shit.

I have trouble reading kanji. Sue me. You who went to the fancy school and have six diplomas hanging from your office wall, a wife, three kids, a dog, a minivan, a house. I like my life. I have a stuffed animal friend. I don't have the mentality of a three year old, or a five year old. I don't have issues. I'm happy.

You're not, or you would be smiling too, sir.

What does that say about me? What does that say about you?

You want things. I want for nothing. You wish…mine are fulfilled. You have associates, I have friends. You work nine to five, and I've never worked a day in my life. I have a job, yes, but it's not work. You have a car. I walk.

Can you smell the flowers from that car, Mr. Man? Or does the air conditioning, power steering, power locks, power radio that my voice is on block you from that? Keep you from stopping and bending over to watch as an ant makes it's way home with a crumb three times it's size, only to go out and do it again, maybe never eating a bite? Sounds like you, doesn't it? That's sad na no da. That you have such a low opinion of yourself.

Power. You need it, you desire it, you want it, more of it, I have it. I didn't want it. What does that say, about us both?

You can keep your sex, your money, your nine to five, your diplomas, your wife and dog and kids, you minivan, your house. They're nice things to have. I don't want them. I don't care for them. Why then, do you care about me? Because you see me, and want what I have?

Take it. But leave Kumagorou. I'm rich, not because of money or fame or power, but because I made a little girl smile on her way to school today, I made a harried mother laugh, a teenager dream the impossible, a business man, you sir…I made you think. Briefly? Yes. About important things? Possibly. Will you remember this two minutes from now? Probably not. You'll keep on heading off to work, your windows rolled up and the air conditioner on and your cell phone on speaker phone with my voice on your radio and your power steering ensuring a smooth ride between places. Places. Between them. Like music, it's not the notes, but the silence in between.

When did you last listen to silence? To the space between heartbeats of your wife, children, yourself? When did you just stop? At a light? At a stop sign? When did you last go for a walk? From your house to your car, the car to your office? How frightfully boring, na no da. 

I walked around the block this morning. It took me four hours, because the flowers on Mrs. Kobayashi's lawn bloomed different buds so I had to smell them all and them talk to her as she watered them so they would be there tomorrow, and I had to rescue a worm from a puddle or it would have drown and then Kumagorou would have been sad and the trees smelled so good after last night's rain. I had to tie my shoe, and wait so that the mosquito that landed on my hand got enough food to feed her babies. I had to watch people get on the bus, to go to the trains, all facing one way, none of them smiling. I laughed. Why? Why not? The cicada that was flapping on my window last night died this morning. The ocean gave birth to the sun. I watched them both. Pika pika, sir. We all shone this morning. Did you?

Ne?

I'm not naïve. I'm not stupid. I'm no god. I'm not mentally deficient. I'm not a genius. I'm no fool. I'm not high. There is no always. I do not suffer from what was once called 'multiple personalities'. I'm no littler than you, so you cannot belittle me. I'm no bigger than you, and any pedestal you place me upon will crumble at my feet of clay. I'm no different than you are, so don't try and classify me as such. There is no special meaning behind what I do when I wake up, who I talk to, what I wear, where my music is made, why I take a goddamn freaking piss when I gotta take a goddamn freaking piss. I just gotta piss, people.

I am Ryuichi Sakuma and

I am happy because

I am.


End file.
